I Hope
by TriStateCopFan
Summary: First part: Alex's POV. Her response to finding Bobby's secret I Wish list in his portfolio. Second part: BA together, after their hopes and wishes are revealed.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! For those of you who wanted Alex's reply…. I've tried a different format, 'cause I thought it'd be easier to read this way than having to refer back/remember what Bobby's "wish list" was.**

**Also, I wanted to try to create the effect of actually reading Bobby's portfolio through his own eyes. All of Alex's replies are printed in _Italics (to simulate "girly" writing)_. So, here goes Alex's rebuttal, entitled:**

_**I HOPE…**_

Alex's guilty conscious gnawed at her for the rest of the day. But at the same time, she was glad she had read Bobby's notes. Over their years together, she knew they shared a deep fondness for one another, but to actually see his thoughts and feelings in print –well, that somehow made things different.

She remembered back to a conversation they'd had after that whole testifying and letter fiasco. They promised each other, "no more secrets or lies." Each of them was now confident that their partnership could survive anything. Sure, they'd still disagree and hit a rough spot every now and again, but they knew in the end that they'd always be together.

Alex reached for the heavy, bulging leather binder and leafed through the pages –back to the page containing Bobby's private "wish list." She began writing.

Captain Deakins returned from a meeting upstairs and glanced at Alex as he walked past the Goren/Eames adjoined desks. He did an 'about face' and returned, standing by her side.

As she saw him approaching, she turned the page and rested her forearms across the book.

"How's the Reynolds case coming along?" he asked, eyeing the open brown portfolio.

"Okay," she nodded, fidgeting with the pen in her fingers. "We were scheduled to interview a witness at the Museum today, but with Bobby not here…"

Deakins laughed, "Yeah, I know. Hopefully he'll be back and you can get it done tomorrow –the brass was just getting on me about it."

"He should be back," Alex said. "Bobby usually doesn't miss a day unless he's feeling really sick."

Deakins tossed his head, nodding at the open book. "You think the big guy's gonna like that?" he chuckled. "Writing in his 'bible'."

Alex shook her head, like it was nothing. "Oh, I was just fillin' in some blanks in his notes –I don't think he'll mind."

"Get outta here on time today, for a change," the Captain smiled as he turned back towards his office and walked away.

Alex flipped the page back and continued her writing.

At six o'clock, she grabbed her pocketbook, Bobby's portfolio and headed for the elevator.

X X X

Bobby was on the sofa, watching the end of the six o'clock news. The ringing of his doorbell startled him, but he smiled when he looked through the peephole and saw a smiling Alex, holding a deli bag.

He opened the door. "Hi, what are you doing here?"

"I just came for the friendly greeting," she sassed him as she entered and headed for the kitchen.

Bobby chuckled, "Sorry, you know what I meant."

"I brought you some food," she said, as she placed the bag on the counter and began unpacking it. "You sure you're fever's down?"

"Yes," he said, standing over her shoulder, examining his about-to-be dinner.

Then he looked on the countertop next to the bag and saw his leather case. "Oh shit," he moaned to himself. "I hope she didn't open that today."

He kept observing her. She seemed to be acting 'normal' around him, so he figured he was safe.

"I'd stay and eat with you, but I'm on my way to a hair appointment in the Village," she said as she snatched the car keys from the counter. "You won't recognize me tomorrow with my new cut and highlights," she joked.

She turned from the counter and examined him. "Bend down so I can reach you," she ordered.

He obeyed, and Alex took his face in between her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead.

"You're right, no fever," she said, confirming his 'diagnosis.'

Bobby stood up, blushing just a bit, and laughed, "If you wanted to kiss me you should've just told me," he joked.

"Just eat your dinner," Alex warned. "I've gotta get going – Andre gets really pissed off if his customers are late."

Bobby walked her to the door. "Thanks for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow," he said with a smile.

"No problem," she answered. "Oh! I almost forgot –I brought your portfolio, too. Deakins is already catchin' heat on the Reynolds case, so you may want to look over your notes. I rescheduled the Museum witness for tomorrow."

"Okay," Bobby nodded. "Thanks."

He closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew…that's why she had my binder."

He fixed his dinner plates, grabbed the binder and headed back to the sofa.

After watching Jeopardy! and eating his soup and sandwich, Bobby grabbed the book, unzipped it and leafed through the pages to his notes on the Reynolds case.

As he passed by page after page, something caught his eye: different writing –female, he could tell –and in blue ink. Bobby only used black pens to write in his portfolio.

He felt panic rising in his stomach. He flipped backwards, relocating the tampered-with pages. He was horrified when he realized exactly which pages were different. His heart started pounding harder, as he began to read:

I wish…

_I hope…_

I wish that I could tell you the way I relax –even though, at the same time my heart skips a beat—when I see you get off the elevator and walk down the hall towards our desks. You've come back for another day.

_I hope you realize how happy I am when I get off the elevator and see you sitting at your desk …with my coffee and Danish waiting for me on mine. My heart skips a beat when I see how handsome you look in your suit. I feel a sense of relief that nothing bad happened to you overnight and you're here again to spend another day with me. _

I wish I could tell you the way your 'good morning' smile, (when you're in a good mood), brightens my day and warms my heart.

_I hope you realize how your 'good morning' smile brightens my day and warms my heart._

I wish I could tell you that the way you grumble your 'good morning' when you're in a grouchy mood warms my heart, just as much. You're adorable when you pout.

_I hope you realize that my grouchy morning behavior is never directed at you—it's probably been a 'bad hair' morning. I always smile on the inside when I see you. Remind me not to pout—it causes wrinkles_. 

I wish I could tell you how beautiful and I think you are.

_I hope you know how handsome and attractive I think you are. But don't let it go to your head, okay?_

I wish I could tell you how perfectly happy I'd be to ignore all this paperwork and just sit across from you and gaze into your sparkling eyes all day.

_I hope you've never caught me staring at you when I'm supposed to be doing paperwork. I could gaze at your gorgeous, big brown eyes all day. They make me melt._

I wish the Captain would get off my back about finishing this paperwork.

_I hope...Ditto._

I wish I could tell you how much I admire your slim, toned figure –which still somehow manages to have curves in all the right places. ...Oh, how my fingers would love to caress those curves..

_I hope you know what a perfect hunk of man you are – tall, dark and handsome –those broad shoulders –those forearms when you roll up your sleeves…mmmmmmm. I hope your fingers get their wish some day! SOON!_

I wish I could tell you how grateful I am that you put up with me and my moods and idiosyncrasies –and stay by my side, no matter what Deakins or Carver think.

_I hope you realize I don't think you're all that hard to 'put up with' –not now, anyway…I've gotten so used to you. Deakins and Carver should know better by now—I'll always be in your corner._

I wish I could tell you how much it means to me that you've stayed for the past five years, through thick and thin. I'd hate to have to tell you what I might I have done if you, too, had abandoned me like all the ones before you. No, I could never tell you that. I'm too ashamed.

_I hope you know how much you mean to me and how much I need you. It's why I've stayed for the past five years, through thick and thin. I'd hate to have to tell you what I might do if I ever lose you. I don't think I could go through losing another man I love._

I wish I could tell you how much I love you and need you. But, instead, I told you, "I'm lucky you withdrew your letter." I'm an idiot.

_I hope…Oh my God! I just told you I loved you! Well, we did agree, 'no more secrets', right? I should've told you six months ago outside that courtroom, but instead, while on the witness' stand, Isaid that you were "an acquired taste." I'm an idiot_. 

There was an added note at the bottom of the page.

"_I really didn't mean to snoop. I was looking for your notes on the Reynolds case. Please forgive me. I love you, Bobby. See you tomorrow. Alex xo_

Bobby was smiling, his heart still pounding with excitement –and still just a bit of embarrassment. There was no way he was angry with her.

"She loves me," he whispered, as he traced his fingertips over her closing words.

"I can't wait to get to work tomorrow," he said with a growing smile. "I'm gonna have such fun with her pretending I never read this."

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

…**Sometimes, Wishes _DO_ Come True**

The television was still on, but Bobby hadn't paid any attention to the screen for over an hour. He'd been trying to review his notes in the Reynolds case in order to prepare for the next day's meeting with the witness, but his mind –then his fingers—kept drifting back to the most important pages in his portfolio: the ones containing Alex's notes back to him. Her written profession of her love.

He had read and re-read her words time and time again. He had a change of heart. What had earlier seemed would be an amusing practical joke, now only seemed a cruel thing to do to her.

He sat on the sofa, staring at the handwriting on the pages in front of him, and thought, "I can't pretend I didn't see her notes. I've been waiting to hear those words from her for _so long_ –and at least _she_ had the courage to say them. If it were up to me, she'd have never seen my notes –not because I don't want her to know how I feel about her, but because I didn't have the nerve to let her know – too afraid she'd laugh at me – reject me."

He picked up the heavy binder and checked the clock on the VCR: 7:48 p.m. Alex would still be at the salon getting her hair done –of that he was sure. She'd often complained about sitting in the stylist's chair for over 2 hours for her cut and highlighting –how hungry she was by the time she finally got out of there, after having gone without dinner—and how her butt hurt after sitting so long. The thought made him smile as he imagined that cute, shapely little butt.

"No," Bobby said, returning to his thoughts, "There's no way I'm gonna tease or torment her –not after she's laid her heart on the line for me." He smiled. "That's my little Alex. It figures she'd be brave enough to actually _do it_…communicate her feelings…unlike me, who keeps everything bottled up – 'cause I'm a coward…"

Although totally absorbed in his own thoughts and feelings –and fears—about how to handle this new development –a definite change in the dynamic of their relationship, Bobby suddenly found himself wondering about what _Alex_ must be going through at this very second. "Is she nervous? Excited? Scared? She's _gotta_ be wondering how I reacted when I saw what she'd written."

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge. He stood by the counter as he gulped from the can and when his eyes spotted the deli bag still on the countertop, he couldn't help but smile as he thought about the way she always takes care of him. "She even brought me dinner, to make sure I ate something –_and_ brought my portfolio, 'cause she _knew_ I would see what she'd written –she _wanted_ me to know."

He tossed the empty can in the recycle bin and checked the time on the microwave's clock: 8:05 p.m. He knew what he _wanted_ to do –what he _had to_ do. He headed for the bathroom to shave and shower. He had time to clean himself up, pick up something for Alex to eat, and make it to her apartment by the time she'd get home from her hair appointment.

X X X

Bobby nervously paced around Alex's living room. He tried to busy himself, looking at her display of various family photos, her CD collection –a magazine she'd left laying on the coffee table.

He was dressed in a perfectly fitting pair of dark jeans, with a light blue denim shirt –open at the collar, with sleeves rolled up, (as referred to in Alex's note), purposely flaunting his muscular, sinewy forearms. He had lightly splashed his jaw line with the cologne that Alex loved –_Vintage Gruen_, imported from France. He wore it only on special occasions because the fragrance had been discontinued so, once his supply was gone, it would be gone forever.

Bobby had set a place for her at the small dinette, complete with wineglass; a red candle was lit, casting shadows and a flickering, warm glow around the room. A crystal bud vase, holding a single red rose, was in front of her place setting. Her dinner was keeping warm in the oven and, after putting Alex's favorite CD in the player, he went to the kitchen to check that her food wasn't getting overcooked.

He was prepared. Or at least he thought he was –until he heard her keys jingling against the lock. His heart began to pound in his chest.

X X X

As she inserted the key into the lock, something at her feet caught her eye. She stared at the floor, to make sure she was seeing correctly: light was emanating from inside her apartment, shining under the door.

"I know I didn't leave any lights on when I left for work this morning," she thought to herself.

Her initial thought was that she was being robbed and was about to walk in on a burglar. As she reached into her purse for her off-duty piece, the next sound caught her off guard. "That's my stereo –my Ute Lemper _"Crimes of the Heart_" CD is playing," she whispered.

She smiled as she surmised "It's Bobby." Taking a deep breath to steel herself for the confrontation, she slowly turned the key and, with trepidation, opened the door.

Upon entering the small foyer, she looked towards the living room. It was empty. Then, she noticed the flickering of the candlelight coming from the dining room. She walked towards the dinette/kitchen area and saw Bobby – looking fantastic, she couldn't help but notice—standing by her oven.

"Bobby! What are you _doing_ here?"

He smiled, "I just came for the friendly greeting," sarcastically teasing her with the words she had used on him earlier that evening.

She walked towards the kitchen and smiled. "Music? Candle light?

He waved his index finger towards her –his hand nervously wagging, as was his habit. "Your h-hair…you look b-beautiful."

Alex approached even closer. "Thank you," she smiled, as her fingers nervously tugged at a few blonde strands. (She had been so shocked to find him in her apartment, she had momentarily forgotten about even having had her hair done).

"And dinner, too?" she smiled, as she watched him open the oven and carefully remove her dinner plate.

It definitely smelled like an Italian meal, but she couldn't tell what it was –not under the sauce and gooey melted mozzarella.

"Eggplant parmigianna," Bobby answered and smiled, adding "with salad and garlic bread."

"You remembered?"

He nodded and let out a small chuckle.

She knew why he was laughing—making fun of her new vegetarian selection. "I can't help it, Bobby. Ever since I saw that special on TV about how they treat those poor little calves…I just can't eat veal anymore."

He smiled as he walked by her, bringing her plate to the table and pouring her a glass of wine. He was so accustomed to working with tough, scrappy little Alex; it touched him to see the softer, womanly side of her personality.

She followed him back to the dining room and stood alongside her chair. "A rose, too?"

He held her chair as she seated herself. "What's this all about?" she asked, as if innocent.

Bobby's brow furrowed and he gave her an admonishing look as he took the seat next to her at the table.

Alex picked up her fork and poked at her eggplant.

"You know what this is all about. You started it."

"_I_ started it?" she responded, wide-eyed with surprised indignation.

"Yes. You," he responded with conviction.

She sat quietly, waiting for him to explain himself further, but no such explanation would be forthcoming. It was one of his usual tactics. He had firmly placed the ball in her court –it was her turn to explain. He sat, just watching her, waiting for her to speak.

"Are you angry? You know…'cause I looked in your notebook," she asked timidly.

"No."

Again, she waited for him to add something more. Silence.

"Are you angry…because of what I _wrote_ in your notebook?"

Bobby broke out in a smile, entirely lighting up his face. He shook his head, 'no.' "If anything, I should be angry with myself for not having the courage to _tell_ _you_ all those things I wrote."

Alex relaxed and smiled – _and_ took a large gulp from her wineglass.

Bobby nervously fidgeted in his seat. "I've wanted to hear those words from you for –a long time." He paused and swallowed, hard. "Is –is everything really true? All those things you wrote back to me."

She smiled and laid a reassuring hand on top of his. "It's all true. All that and more." She gazed at his face, into his eyes.

Alex continued eating, smiling at Bobby and remarking from time to time about how delicious her dinner was.

"So? What are we going to do about….this?" Bobby asked, then quickly averted his eyes –almost as if he were afraid of her answer.

"What do _you_ _want to do_?" she asked back, putting the ball in _his_ court, just to get even.

He didn't know how to answer. His years' of suppressing and not verbalizing his feelings was not easy to overcome.

Alex saw the look of mild panic that had crossed his face and instantly felt bad. She decided to let him off the hook.

She again touched his hand and smiled. "You _really_ wanna know what **_I_** want to do?"

He nodded immediately, 'yes.'

"_I_ want to make all _your_ wishes come true," she said, again gazing into his big brown eyes.

She watched him smile – and watched his muscular chest rise and fall as he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"All…all of 'em?" he asked, just to make sure he understood her correctly.

"Mmm-hmmm," Alex answered, now wearing a devilish grin.

She gently slid her hand over his, then stroked the length of his fingers, lingering on his middle finger, as if to transmit a subliminal message of her intentions for the remainder of the evening.

Bobby felt his pulse quicken as he reveled in the touch of her skin against his. He remembered back to the entry in his notebook –the one about how he wished his fingers could caress her curves –and her response, "I hope your fingers get their wish –AND SOON!"

Her touch, combined with the thought of that particular entry in his book and the pleasure such exploration would bring, prompted an entirely new reaction in his body –one from below his waist.

He, himself, now bore a devilish _and hopeful_ grin. "Even my fingers' wish?" he teased.

She leaned closer to him, her face just inches from his. Her eyes were no longer twinkling with mischief. Now, they were beginning to smolder with desire. "_Especially_ your fingers' wish," she whispered.

She kissed him, gently at first, but his reciprocity aroused a stronger, deeper response from her. They hungrily explored each other's lips and tongues –until neither of them could resist. Both of them instantly knew that _this _would be the night they would finally give in to their mutual yearning.

When their kiss ended, they stared into one another's eyes.

Alex smiled. "You smell absolutely delicious," she said softly, then leaned closer to his jaw and inhaled, while she placed teasing, nipping kisses on his smooth skin. "Positively good enough to eat."

He noticed that the devilish gleam had returned to her eyes.

As she looked at his face, she noticed his eyes had darted down to the dirty dishes on the table. His eyebrows raised. She knew his expressions well –his look was silently asking if they should clear the table and wash the dishes.

"They can wait," she said, tossing her head towards the dirty plates on the table. "_I_ can't."

She grabbed his hand and stood –then led him to the bedroom.

THE END. ?


End file.
